Day Trip Toute Seul

Today I woke up at 5h30 and got to Gare Montparnasse around 7h. I had a return trip to go to Rennes that I was supposed to go with Joris on, but since he had a final pop up that day I was not going to let my ticket go to waste.
I had a long train ride to Rennes, where I was in a twilighted sleep that makes you roll your neck around and eventually makes you feel kind of motion sick. But I finally got into Rennes.
When in the city, I looked for the bus times to Mont St Michel. Much to my dismay, I had 2 hours to kill before it left. I went for a stroll on the big street to discover a little about Renes.
Old city from the 11th century, small and intimate. It was like a smaller version of London with Parisian imitation. The buildings in the area I was in were newer, and I mean the ugly art-deco types. I didn't get very far because my stride was small since I kicked my ass in an hour of yoga the day before.
Got onto the 1.5 hour busride to Mont St Michel. Another rolling-of-the-neck trip.
And then Mont St Michel comes into view. It was like hearing Common Man playing in the background. It was huge, intimidating, looming. Beautiful. We got out of the bus and I could only look up for the first few minutes. But I had only 4 hours before the last bus back to Rennes, so I hopped to it as fast as possible.
Did I mention yet that tourists are infestations? I know I am one, but these people come in swarms, I promise you! And the worst ones I would say are the Scottish, Americans, and Japanese (or, more general, Asians). The city was completely riddled with people, and I could barely walk forward let alone hear myself think. The shops were all tourist shops now. And the restos were in English, too. Made me feel guilty being there.
Anyways, the Mount is basically this enormous hill where you have to walk up ramps and LOTS of stairs. Lots. I enjoyed that part a bit because I felt like I was getting somewhere, and most of the tourists seemed to be apprehensive of climbing the steps, so remained on the lower grounds.
The abbey itself is interesting. There is no real furniture in it, but I don't think it really needs it. The architecture is stunning. And there are so many nooks and crannies in the structure that you could surely get lost for HOURS in the place if you didn't have the museum signs and arrows everywhere. The bigger chapel in the abbey had a service while I was there. I was intrigued to watch it in this magnificent background, and tourists in their sneakers and fanny packs sitting down to take vigil. And then a little girl started screaming. Enough with that, I'm out. I somehow got stuck in some Eastern European school trip. German? Russian? Something else? I'm not sure. I think there might have been 2 trips, because I know I heard German, but then there was another more Slavic language being spoken that confused me.
I didn't take too long in the Abbey, mostly because I know I'll be back in a few days with the gang. So I went for a walk around the gardens and walls. The island has so many different staircases and pathways! I don't know how I ended up where.
Ended up finding a little restaurant that wasn't too crowded to eat an omelette at. But it wasn't good, they had the hardest time keeping track of who ordered what, despite the small crowd. The women forgot I was there, forgot what I ordered, forgot THAT I ordered. Agh, frustration. The omelette was foamy (yes, for real) but tastey. This old American couple sat next to me and were completely hopeless. Couldn't read French, and tried to do that thing Americans do, "Excuse-ay-mwa? I'll have umm..le wah-terrr? Si, wah-terrr." Oh, no. And they were looking at the menu as if it were in another alphabet. I asked them if they needed help, in which they said yes and asked lots of questions. They ended up still messing up the order so I guess I wasn't too much help. And they asked a lot about me and why I was in France, they were telling me that they were with tour group that was going all over France. It didn't sound like they were enjoying the trip too much, despite their patience, discouraging me more to ever take a tour trip somewhere else in the world.
Walked some more, shopped, strolled on the ocean side. Read my French book. It was a calm day, aside from the mayhem of tourists.
Waiting for the bus back, I started talking to this Japanese couple. They knew NO FRENCH. And were trying hard in English. They liked that I was from NY. They were on their honeymoon. They insisted on taking a picture with me. And now, somewhere in Japan, I will forever be in someone's honeymoon album as "the girl from nyc that we met in france".
Back in Rennes, had 2 hours to kill before my train. Read, ate a salad. Mounted the train, and that was that.